Bedside Manner
by jk-salmeier
Summary: As Harry comes down with a bad case of the flu, who should come to his rescue, but his good friend Ginny Weasley? Slightly AU as H/G never got together in 6th year.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter was late for work. In the two years he had been employed as a Ministry Auror he had never once been late for work. However, this morning a sore throat, an annoying headache and an overall tiredness, caused him to oversleep, making him late.

An hour into his work day his head continued to pound, his throat continued to burn, and his body started to feel a bit achy. Dismissing the achiness as just a matter of sleeping wrong, Harry continued to plough through his day. He still had case reports to review and evidence to document. Sometimes he really hated the administrative part of his job.

But there were always other things to look forward to on a Friday.

"Knock, knock. Hiya Harry, I just thought I'd come by to see my favorite Auror."

Harry knew who it was before he even looked up toward the door. The invigorating flowery scent of his friend, Ginny Weasley preceded her into his office making his heart race. He always looked forward to Fridays. Every Friday Ginny would come see him before meeting her father for lunch.

Harry looked up in time to see Ginny greet him with that beautiful smile of hers. The smile that always makes his stomach swoop. She had a bit of a tan, most likely due to all her time on the Quidditch pitch. Ginny looked absolutely breathtaking in a simple jean skirt, and a pale yellow long sleeve shirt that clung to her athletic frame.

"Hey, Ginny. How's my favorite Chaser?" Harry greeted, giving her what he hoped was a smile and not a grimace. He didn't want her to think he didn't look forward to their visits, or give away the fact that he wasn't feeling well.

"I'm great, but are _you_ okay?" Ginny asked, walking closer to him and not stopping until she had her hand on his forehead. He didn't even have time to get up from his chair.

Her hand was cool and soft, and felt nice on his heated forehead he couldn't help but lean into her touch. Even though his nose was starting to get stuffy, Ginny's signature flowery scent was a welcome invasion of his senses.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired."

Harry hated lying to her, but it really was nothing to worry about. It was just a headache and a sore throat. Harry had been through worse colds when he was younger and had managed to survive them despite his aunt's poor caretaking skills.

"Harry you're really warm. You should go see the Matron, or go home."

"I can't go, I have to fin…" Harry sneezed before he could finish his sentence.

Ginny conjured him a tissue and quickly handed it to him.

"Thanks." He blew his nose and decided to change the subject. "What brings you by so early? You usually don't come by until half past eleven."

Harry cringed inside not meaning to voice that he had memorized every time Ginny had come to visit him. He looked up just in time to see a small smile and two pink spots on Ginny cheeks before she turned away from his desk.

"I have a meeting with Pitney and Gwenog on Level 7 at 10 and then Dad and I are going to lunch. You're welcome to join us." Ginny said, seating herself in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"I'd love to, but as you can see," Harry gestured to the mess on his desk. "I'm going to be here for a while. Maybe next week?

"Alright."

"Why do you have a meeting with the Director of Magical Games and Sports _and_ the Captain of your team?"

"Oh it's no big deal, just…contract stuff." Ginny answered nonchalantly, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger. He knew she only did that if she was nervous about something or lying. Harry chose not to call her on it, best save that detail for later.

"Right," Harry said incredulously, not believing for a second the meeting was no big deal. But if Ginny didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to push her for answers.

After all, that was how Ginny had approached everything with him. Especially during his sixth year after Dumbledore had died and up until after the war, her friendship was the best thing that had ever happened to him. She was extremely patient, never pressing him for answers or explanations. She was just Ginny and he loved that about her.

He just wished he had approached things differently when it had come to their relationship. If only he had acted on impulse that wonderful day in his sixth year when she ran toward him after Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup. If only he had listened to the monster in his chest and kissed her. Things might have turned out differently between them had he just taken the chance. Instead he had allowed himself to believe that they made better friends than lovers.

Shortly after the war had ended, Harry and Ginny had come close to crossing the bridge from friendship into a relationship. But making that kind of a decision after a major life change, such as the aftermath of a war, seemed foolish and a bit rash. Both of them had agreed that their friendship was more important.

However, now two years later, as they had grown closer and life had settled down, Harry was ready to make those changes in their friendship. But at the rate Harry was going he had better act fast, or Ginny was never going to be his.

Looking at her watch, Ginny got up from her chair. "I've got to go Harry, or I'll be late. It was great seeing you."

Ginny walked over to his desk just as Harry rose from his chair. He must have gotten up too fast as he was now seeing Ginny surrounded by stars. She met him just in time to steady him under both his arms.

"Harry, you _need_ to go home," Ginny urged, her brow furrowed with concern. She gently put her hand on his cheek and then kissed the other. "Call me if you need _anything_."

"I'll be fine. Good luck with your meeting. I hear Pitney's a spitfire."

"I think I can take her." Ginny smirked. "Goodbye, Harry."

"Goodbye, Ginny."

And Harry watched as the bright spot of his Friday walked out of his office and into the lift.

**HPGWHPGWHPGWHPGWHPGWHPGW**

Throughout the rest of the morning, Harry was unable to shake the headache and the sneezing. Usually when he would get a headache it meant he was dehydrated, but no amount of water could keep his head from throbbing. It was now a full blown migraine causing double vision making it difficult to finish the reports he allowed to pile up over the week.

It was time for a pain potion.

Harry never liked taking anything that would impair his mind, but he was getting desperate as the pain in his head seemed to radiate throughout his body. He rummaged in his desk and found the pain potion the Ministry Matron had given him when he had injured his back a few months ago. An hour passed after the first dose and it didn't seem to do anything except make his stomach hurt. He took more of the potion, finishing off the small bottle.

By noon, the throbbing in his head subsided at bit, but his eyes were now sensitive to the light and protesting to stay closed with every blink.

_If I could just take a break for ten minutes, I'll feel better,_ he thought.

"_Nox_," Harry whispered, pointing his wand to the desk lamp.

Harry laid his exhausted head on his desk and fell asleep.

_The squeaky sound of his office door opening startled Harry awake. He opened his eyes to find Ginny Weasley shutting the door behind her._

"_I thought I told you to go home, Harry?" Ginny whispered, crossing the room before taking a seat on his desk. She pulled his chair closer to her, brushed his fringe away from his forehead placing her lips there in a slow kiss._

"_I-I can't. I have to finish up this paperwork." Harry stammered feeling his face heat even more._

"_What paperwork?"_

_Harry looked at this desk and it was unburdened of the mess that was there earlier that morning. All that was on his desk was a large bowl of water with a flannel next to it. _

"_How did you do that?"_

"_Do what, Harry?" Ginny said impishly, placing another kiss on his cheek. __"Sit back and relax, Harry." _

_Harry sat up in his chair watching as Ginny placed the flannel in the water filled bowl and wrung out the excess water. __She gently began dabbing the cold flannel on his forehead, cheeks and neck, alternating her task with chaste kisses._

_The coolness of the flannel and the warmness of Ginny's lips started to make Harry drowsy again. He struggled to keep his eyes opened and focused on Ginny._

"_C__lose your eyes, Harry." _

"_I don't want to, because then you'll leave."_

"_Just tell me what you want, Harry. And I'll take you home."_

"_Take me home, Ginny."_

_Ginny's face broke into a wide smile. She leaned forward towards him, their lips only centimeters apart. Finally he was going to be able to kiss her, and feel her soft lips on his._

"_Harry?"_

_Someone was calling his name, but it wasn't Ginny. The voice sounded distant and faraway._

_Ginny was no longer sitting on his desk, instead she was at the door. Before he could stop her, she was already gone._

"_Please don't leave, Ginny. Take me home."_

"Harry?"

Someone was still calling his name, sounding as if they were speaking to him through a long tunnel. He ignored it, as he wasn't ready to wake up.

"Harry. Harry, wake up! Ron, get in here. Now!"

The shrillness of the voice and the heavy footfalls entering his office made the pounding in his head return. It didn't help that this person was now vigorously shaking him, trying to wake him up.

A cold, shaky hand was now on his forehead.

"Harry, you're burning up."

It was Hermione. She sounded frantic, but Harry couldn't figure out why? He'd only been asleep for ten minutes.

"Shhh, Er-my-nee," Harry yawned, keeping his eyes closed and his head still on the desk. "Itsh only ban tan minatesh."

"Harry, its two o'clock, you missed lunch. You were supposed to meet us down in the Canteen, remember? Have you eaten at all today?" Hermione inquired.

Harry thought about the question for a moment. All that he had to eat was a bowl of cereal this morning and he hadn't even finished it.

"Wasn't hungry. Why is it so cold in here?" Harry questioned, shivering a bit in his Auror robes.

"Harry, you need to go home. I think you may have a fever."

Harry slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes, oblivious to the piece of parchment sticking to his cheek. The brightness of this office stung his eyes.

"I'm fine. Besides, I can't go home. I have to finish this report."

"You mean the report that's stuck to your face?" Ron pointed out, separating the document from Harry's cheek and handing it to him. "Harry, you're not going to get anything done in the state you're in. Go home, mate. I'll finish this for you."

"I'm fine, really," Harry tiredly assured. As Harry got up from his desk, the pressure in his head caused him to sway to the side a bit forcing Ron to steady him by gripping him at the elbow.

"I'm taking you home, _now_,"

There was such finality in Ron's voice Harry didn't feel like arguing. He didn't feel like doing much of anything, but sleep and hopefully dream of Ginny again. Harry turned to get his messenger bag, but Hermione already had it in her hands offering it to him.

"Hermione, tell Kingsley I took Harry home."

"Okay," Hermione answered and kissed Ron goodbye. "See you at home."

Harry averted his eyes to the public display of affection in his office. It was still weird to see his two best friends kissing and it just reminded him of what he was missing. More of who he was missing, Ginny Weasley.

"Feel better, Harry. Call if you need anything." Hermione kissed him on the forehead.

"Bye."

Harry was too tired to remember how he got from his office to his flat. He was just thankful to be home. Ron walked him to his bedroom and Harry collapsed into his bed and fell asleep.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to Jenn (jennyelf) for being an awesome beta :D


	2. Chapter 2

First of all I'm so sorry this took so long to update. RL and other things got in the way of me getting this updated. Thank you once again to jennyelf for betaing this chapter and for helping me move it along.

* * *

Chapter 2

Harry slowly started waking up from the most bizarre dream.

He dreamt he was at work, and nothing seemed to go right for him. For instance, in the dream he had the worst headache and it wouldn't go away no matter what he did. Harry couldn't concentrate on his work because the pain in his head and his body was so bad. Luckily in his dream he found a pain potion and he felt a little better the minute he took it, but he was also sleepy.

The only highlight of the dream was seeing Ginny. Harry thought it was really nice of her to visit him before she had left for her meeting. He had wished he was able to go to lunch with her, instead of being stuck in the office doing paperwork.

Harry kept trying to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt like lead. He was still quite tired and wasn't in a real hurry to get out of bed, so he rolled over onto his side. His body and his head seemed to protest. Every muscle ached at the simplest movement.

_Wait, _Harry thought. _Why am I still so achy if it was just a dream?_ _Why does my head hurt so badly?_

And then he remembered. It wasn't a dream at all. It was his day yesterday.

Harry opened his eyes fully to find the curtains drawn in his bedroom. His eyes protested as the low light only made his headache worse. He could blurrily see the sunlight trying to seep through the gaps of thick material forming strips of bright light into his room. He was thankful the curtains were drawn as he didn't think his sensitive eyes could have handled the bright sunlight.

He reached out a tired arm toward his bedside table, blindly feeling for his glasses. Once he found them he lazily put them on, rolled over onto his back and slowly sat up. As his world came into focus, so did the prettiest sight walking into his bedroom.

"Hey, you're up."

It was Ginny Weasley, levitating a tray with several vials of different colored potions, one of which was smoking.

"Ginny?" Harry croaked, not recognizing his own voice. "What are you doing here?"

_Good one, Potter._ He would have smacked himself in the head for saying that had it not hurt so much already.

"Oh no, you don't sound so good, Harry," Ginny said sympathetically. She conjured a small table and set the tray on it. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay I guess." Harry shrugged and then winced as the achiness in his shoulders screamed in protest.

"Liar," Ginny chuckled.

"My head hurts and my neck and shoulders hurt as well."

"I have a potion for that, but first, let's see if you still have a fever."

Ginny sat on his bed facing him and reached out her hand to feel Harry's forehead. Her hand was a little colder than it was yesterday, but it felt good on his warm forehead.

Ginny removed her hand and started rubbing both of her hands together to warm them up.

"Sorry, my hands are cold. I can't tell if you have a fever of not," Ginny apologized.

"It's alright," Harry answered sleepily.

"No, it's not, Harry. But there is another way I can find out."

Ginny leaned in closer to Harry and did something Harry was not expecting. She placed her lips on his forehead like she had done in his dream yesterday. He closed his eyes to savour the moment.

_If only she would bring her lips a little lower,_ Harry thought.

And suddenly Harry was aware that he wasn't wearing any pyjama bottoms, just a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. The only thing separating him from Ginny was a thin blanket. Having Ginny this close to him didn't exactly bode well for keeping things from standing up at attention.

Ginny removed her lips from his forehead and Harry slowly opened his eyes. He noticed her cheeks were slightly pink. Ginny was still so close to him that Harry could see the gold flecks in her beautiful brown eyes and count the number of freckles across her nose. The limited sunlight coming into his bedroom bounced off the rich copper hues of her hair. She was so beautiful.

"You're s-still really warm. Does your head hurt?" Ginny asked softly.

"Er…A little."

Harry glanced down at her lips and then into her eyes. He caught Ginny looking at his lips before her gaze snapped back to his eyes.

He leaned in slightly toward her; his only focus was her lips on his. Harry was almost there when suddenly one of the potions gave off a high-pitched screeching sound like a kettle, snapping them both out of their daze.

_Dammit!_

"Pinkerton's Pain Reliever Potion will help with the body aches and the headache. You sound a bit nasally, and hoarse. Do you have pressure in your eyes and along your cheeks?" Ginny rambled, quickly making her way to the small table of potions.

"Yes," Harry admitted.

"Then I'll give you the Sinus Concoction with the Cough Suppressant as well. That should help to relieve the pressure and stuffiness," Ginny explained, crossing to the bed and handing Harry the pink smoking vial. "It's best if you drink it in one go, don't sip."

Harry took the smoking vial and did exactly as she had instructed. Sure enough he knew why Ginny had advised he down it in one go. It was the worst tasting potion he had ever swallowed since he was forced to take the Skele-Gro in his second year. It tasted liked liquefied cabbage and burned the entire way down his throat.

"I can see why you told me to down it," Harry sputtered, as smoke escaped his ears, nose and mouth. "That is one disgusting potion."

"You're lucky I didn't buy the cherry flavored one. Mum would have that one in stock all the time and the cabbage taste was bad enough without adding cherry to it…" Ginny shuddered, handing Harry another vial with a purple potion in it. "But lucky for you, they were all out."

"Lucky me," Harry said, accepting the proffered vial. "Do I down this one too?"

"They all taste awful, so it's probably best if you do."

Harry gulped the second vial down in one go and was surprised that he could already breathe through his nose. The pressure in his head and his eyes subsided almost instantly.

"Are you hungry? I'll make us some dippy eggs and soldiers," Ginny offered.

_GRRRR_. Harry's stomach answered Ginny before he had a chance to open his mouth.

"Well I guess that answers my question." Ginny chuckled. "Be back in a tick."

Harry laid his head back on his pillows and closed his eyes. Now that he could breathe properly, he was able to take in the wonderful flowery scent that filled his bedroom.

It didn't take Ginny too long to return to his bedroom carrying her food tray and levitating the other laden with their breakfast.

"Mum would always make dippy eggs and soldiers whenever one of us was poorly," Ginny shared, placing the food tray across Harry's lap before sitting on the chair next to his bed.

Harry started to recall all those times when he was younger and his cousin Dudley had been ill. His aunt without question would prepare all of Dudley's favorite dishes, including dippy eggs and soldiers. Whenever Harry had been ill, he had always been given tinned soup with dry toast.

The breakfast Ginny had made them was wonderful. Harry couldn't remember the last time anyone had made him dippy eggs and soldiers. In fact, if he were completely honest with himself, he couldn't remember anyone ever making this particular breakfast for him. Harry savoured each bite of his meal.

The more food Harry got into his system, the more questions started to form in his head. Why of all people was Ginny here taking care of him? It's not that he didn't appreciate her presence. On the contrary, there's no one else he'd rather have taking care of him. But didn't Ginny have other things to do on a Saturday?

"Ginny, not to sound ungrateful or make it seem like I don't want you here, but how exactly was it that you came to be taking care of me?" Harry asked, dipping a soldier into the exposed egg yolk.

Harry noticed that Ginny was taking her time answering his question. She took a long gulp of her tea before finally answering him.

"I was home," Ginny shrugged.

"Right," Harry muttered, taking another bite of a yolk soaked soldier.

It wasn't exactly the answer Harry was hoping for, but it was still an answer. Was it really too much to hope for that Ginny was here simply because she wanted to be here and not because she was the only one home?

"Ron had flooed the Burrow last night originally asking for Mum," Ginny continued, interrupting his thoughts. "But she couldn't come here as she had her hands full minding Victoire. He had asked me if I could come instead because I was the only one home. I hope that was okay?"

"Of course it's okay. I just have one more question. Are you the one that took off my trousers and put me to bed?" Harry inquired curiously.

Harry could see Ginny's cheeks turning pink and the corners of her mouth start to turn up in an impish grin.

"Well…"

But before she could answer the question, someone was calling him through the Floo.

"Hello, Harry! It's me, can I come through? Hermione sent me to check up on you," Ron's voice resounded from the fireplace in the sitting room.

_Dammit Ron._

"Stay here, I'll let him through," Ginny said, patting Harry's thigh on her way out to greet her brother.

Harry watched Ginny leave and inwardly cursed the cruel timing of his best friend.

"So how are you feeling, mate?" Ron asked, entering his bedroom.

"Better, thanks." Harry yawned.

"How did the interview go this morning with _Quidditch Today_?" Ron asked, directing his question to Ginny.

Ginny glared at Ron and shook her head back and forth.

"What interview? Ginny, you didn't tell me you had an interview with _Quidditch Today,_" Harry interjected.

Keeping her attention focused on her wandwork, Ginny quickly banished the breakfast trays to the kitchen.

"I didn't mention it, because it wasn't important," she responded, while unnecessarily fiddling with the bedclothes around Harry.

"Not important? Ginny..." Ron sputtered.

"It's just a magazine, Ron," Ginny interrupted, crossing the room to face her brother. "There will be other interviews."

Harry continued to watch the banter between the siblings like an ongoing tennis match. Now that his stomach was full, his eyelids started to droop, and he slowly started to sink comfortably back against his pillows. However, he didn't want to give in to sleep just yet as he wanted to have a front row seat should Ginny resurrect her infamous Bat Bogey Hex on Ron.

"Ron, leave it!" Ginny exclaimed.

She hurriedly crossed the room back to Harry's bed and kissed him on the forehead.

"Get some rest. I'll come by later," she whispered, glaring at Ron on her way out.

"Bye Ginny. Thanks for everything."

Harry waited until he heard the 'whoosh' of the Floo before aiming a pillow directly at Ron's head.

"Ow, what was that for?" Ron grunted, rubbing his head and throwing the pillow back at Harry.

"Always the tone of surprise," Harry yawned, leaning back against his pillows to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Once again a big thank you to jennyelf for her fabulous beta skills. Jenn, you rock!

This chapter contains mild language. About as mild as what one would hear in a PG-13 (12A) film.

* * *

Chapter 3

Harry woke up from his afternoon sleep a little after two in the afternoon. He no longer felt the aftereffects of the potions, and to his relief, his head wasn't pounding. The only mild complaint Harry had was the ever present stiffness in his muscles, probably from being in bed for most of the day.

After putting on his glasses and a pair of pyjama bottoms, Harry stretched and made his way to the sitting room.

Walking into his sitting room, Harry had a fleeting thought of Ginny and the pleasant, albeit short, morning they had together. A part of him had hoped that when he awoke from his mid-morning sleep, he would find Ginny curled up on his sofa reading her Harpies playbook. But to Harry's dismay, the flat was quiet and he was alone.

Harry had been right in thinking that it would have been too much to hope that Ginny would still be here when he woke up. After all, Ginny had told him that the only reason she had come to take care of him was because she was home. He could have done well without that bit of information.

A pang of hunger shook Harry out of his thoughts forcing him to make his way to the kitchen to find something to eat.

To his surprise, Harry found a single sheet of parchment and a lidded glass dish sitting on his kitchen counter. The writing on the parchment he recognized as Ginny's. He lifted the lid and inhaled the familiar scent of Mrs Weasley's cottage pie.

_Harry,_

_I stopped by earlier to check on you, but you were still asleep. I didn't want to disturb you as I felt you needed your rest. I figured you might be hungry after your morning kip, so I made you lunch. _

_Don't forget to take the remaining doses of the potions. I don't want to come back here and find that your cold got worse._

_Floo the Burrow if you need anything._

_Love, Ginny_

Smiling at the short letter, Harry tucked into the pie. It was still pleasantly warm as though it had just been taken out of the oven. Harry reckoned Ginny must have put a charm on it to keep the temperature of the pie edible. She really did think of everything when it came to him.

Harry's mind started to drift again to this morning, specifically to the subject of Ginny's interview with _Quidditch Today_. Why hadn't she said anything about the interview to him? Ginny had said it wasn't important, but why would she say that? Did she mean it wasn't important for him to know about the interview, or that it wasn't important for her to give the interview?

Harry rubbed his face roughly to keep his brain from overanalyzing the situation with Ginny and _Quidditch Today_. He couldn't help thinking that it was unfortunate she had to miss it just to force feed him manky potions and make him delicious dippy eggs and soldiers.

As Harry took another tasty bite of the pie, the most wonderful idea occurred to him. What if he was able to get Ginny's interview rescheduled? It could be sort of a thank you to her for taking such good care of him.

Harry quickly set to work making a couple of Floo calls to various people at _Quidditch Today_ in the hopes that he could get Ginny's meeting with the magazine reinstated.

After a few hours, the Quidditch publication agreed to a new interview with Ginny, but only on the condition that Harry would contribute to their "Legendary Quidditch Players of Hogwarts" commemorative issue.

Reluctantly, Harry consented to the periodical's interview, but with a few restrictions of his own. Any questions regarding the war, his parents, or his personal life were off limits, which conveniently only left one thing for them to discuss – Quidditch.

Harry could feel his eyes start to ache and his head faintly throb against his skull. It was no surprise he was so fatigued given the hours that had passed since he had come up with his plan and all the effort he put in to make it happen.

Downing the remaining doses of his potions, Harry set off to bed.

****

Harry woke up the next morning no longer feeling achy or stuffy. This was a great relief to him as he didn't fancy spending his Sunday sleeping or being under the influence of pain potions.

Making his way to his kitchen, Harry busied himself with preparing breakfast. He was about to set the kettle on the burner when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Harry? Harry, are you there? Its Ginny."

He walked into his sitting room and his stomach swooped at seeing Ginny's head floating among the green flames.

"May I come through? We need to talk about some things," Ginny dryly asked.

"Yes, of course," Harry replied.

As she came through the Floo, Harry waited for her pleasant smile to greet him. Instead what greeted him was a clenched jaw, two violent pink spots on her cheeks and the blazing eyes that reminded him of Mrs Weasley the summer before his second year when the twins and Ron had rescued him from the Dursleys.

"Ginny, what-"

"Harry," Ginny interrupted. "May I ask you why a reporter from _Quidditch Today_ is Flooing the Burrow asking to interview me?"

Her tone was even with no hint of anger, just an eerie calmness.

"Er…what?" Harry muttered, stumbling for words but they escaped him.

Ginny walked closer to him so that they were now standing face to face.

"Why is there a reporter Flooing my parents' home asking to interview me?" Ginny repeated slowly, still keeping her voice even. "He says I have _you_ to thank."

_Shit_.

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair. The idiot reporter wasn't supposed to say anything to Ginny about Harry's involvement. It was no wonder she was so cross.

"Harry, answer my question."

Ginny kept her eyes on him, waiting for an answer. Harry could see that it was costing her a great effort not to blow up at him. He could see the muscles along her jaw line tighten and her breathing seemed to quicken as the minutes passed.

"Alright, I felt bad that you had missed your first Quidditch interview taking care of me, so I made a few calls to get your interview rescheduled as a 'thank you' to you for looking after me."

Harry's explanation did nothing to soften the expression on Ginny's face, or calm her anger. It simply seemed to fuel it.

"Harry, if you wanted to thank me, then take me out for a meal or I don't know, buy me something pretty. But don't use your influence to advance my career. I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" Ginny bellowed, driving her last point home.

"Hang on," Harry snapped, nettled at the accusation. "I know you can take care of yourself and I didn't _use_ my influence to do _anything_! You're a damn good Chaser, Ginny. You _deserve_ this opportunity."

"No, I don't. You weren't at the last match, so I'll fill in the details, shall I. I was in for less than two minutes. I didn't assist in a single goal, much less score one. I didn't even handle the Quaffle. The only valuable thing I did on the pitch that day was hex Kirkwood Hobbs when he grabbed my arse resulting in us _both_ getting ejected _and_ suspended for two matches!" Ginny ranted, her eyes sparkling with angry unshed tears.

Hobbs was lucky Harry wasn't at the last Harpies match. The more Harry thought about that berk grabbing Ginny's arse, the angrier Harry got. Ginny's last match was away in Tutshill, which meant her brothers weren't there either. Hobbs was damn fortunate the match wasn't at Holyhead Stadium.

"_Quidditch Today_ doesn't want to interview me because I'm an exceptional Chaser or because I scored the most goals," Ginny continued. "They only want to talk to me because of what I did and who I'm friends with."

She turned her face away from Harry in an effort to compose herself.

If it wasn't for that plonker, Ginny would never have been ejected, allowing her time to show the skills that Harry knew she had in abundance. And she was suspended for two matches? Harry had half a mind to look up Hobbs at the local Tutshill pub the next time he was sent that way on an assignment. He might just have to see if Ron or George would like to join him.

Harry didn't know what to say to Ginny to make this situation any better. He was still hacked off at _Quidditch Today_ for spilling to Ginny his connection to her interview, not to mention he was still too annoyed at her for blowing up at him.

They remained there in his sitting room in a tense silence.

After a few more minutes, she turned to face him.

"Did it _ever_ occur to you that I would rather care for someone that I _love_, than sit through a boring pointless interview with a stranger?" Ginny remarked.

"Really, I thought it was because you were the only one home," Harry retorted.

He wasn't sure what made him say it, but the cutting remark tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Wait, wait Ginny, I didn't mean it! Did you say 'love'?"

But it was too late. There was no stopping her as Ginny quickly grabbed some Floo powder, threw it in the fireplace and vanished.

"Shit!"

Harry plopped down on his sofa in utter defeat.

Things between Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were properly messed up now.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Special thanks to my husband, M for helping with this chapter and making sure I didn't make Harry and Ron sound too girly. And also a big 'Thank You' to my beta jennyelf for making sure I didn't get carried away with commas.

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Chapter 4

'_Did it __**ever**__ occur to you that I would rather care for someone that I __**love**__, than sit through a boring pointless interview with a stranger?'_

Ginny's statement had remained a constant reverberation through Harry's head since Sunday morning after she had heatedly left his flat at his rather tactless retort. Every time those words had entered Harry's head, he would do his best to ignore them by redirecting his focus to tasks that required him to think critically. Thus, Harry had arrived at work that Sunday afternoon to get a head start on the backlog of case reports he had neglected to finish on Friday.

By Monday morning he was the first among the Aurors to arrive to the MLE office. By late afternoon the mountain of case reports and evidence documentation that had once kept his mind busy were finally completed. There was now nothing left to do to sidetrack Harry's attention away from thinking about his last interaction with Ginny.

Instead of filing the case reports with his wand, Harry took the time to file each report by hand. He was somehow hoping that doing a repetitive job the Muggle way would help divert his thoughts to something other than Ginny Weasley and the 'L-word'.

_She said 'love', Potter. She said, 'love'. Technically, she said 'someone that I love', so does that mean love like a brother or a boyfriend? We'll never know now, will we, you git!_

"Shut it!" Harry exclaimed.

"Right, shall I come back?"

Harry turned toward the familiar voice of his best friend, Ron leaning against the door jamb with a slight smile on his face.

"Sorry, I think I just need a break," Harry apologised, setting the remaining files on his desk.

"Well talking to yourself is likely to get you a 'break' all right, a 'break in St. Mungo's," Ron joked, as he entered and looked around at Harry's finished work. His eyes got wider with each completed report he picked up and set back on the pile.

"Harry, did you finish all of these reports today?"

Harry plopped down unceremoniously onto his desk chair, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"I got a head start on it yesterday afternoon and came in early this morning to finish." Harry yawned.

Ron gave Harry a look that was a cross between exasperation and pride. Grabbing Harry's messenger bag, Ron dumped it on Harry's lap.

"Good job, Harry! I guess we're done for today. Let's go for a pint. You look like you could use one."

Looking around at his finished work, Harry grabbed his bag and headed out with Ron.

"I think you're right. Let's go to _The Sleeping Dragon_. They serve better ale."

_The Sleeping Dragon_ was a fairly new pub that was located on the back side of Diagon Alley. It was most frequented by Aurors and some Ministry employees. Harry didn't mind patronising this establishment as he was less likely to be gawked at by people he worked with five days a week.

After ordering their drinks at the bar, Harry and Ron made their way to a booth and sat down.

Harry sat in silence while Ron proceeded to tell Harry of the latest argument he had with Hermione over the weekend. Harry wasn't paying too much attention to Ron's story. Arguments between his two best friends were pretty normal and it always ended with Hermione winning. Harry just waited for Ron to tell him how he apologised.

Meanwhile, Harry was taking longer and long swallows of his ale. He needed to voice to someone what had happened on Sunday with Ginny, and figure out how to fix it so she wasn't ready to hex him the next time she saw him. Harry wasn't sure that her older brother was the best candidate to talk to about this, but Ron was also his best friend.

In between swallows, Harry kept glancing at Ron to gauge his mood, which seemed fairly good.

_The argument must have ended well, _Harry thought. _Though, I really don't need to hear about what happened when they made up_.

Harry wondered if maybe this would be the right time to tell him, '_By the way, I'm in love with your sister'_. But he didn't think it was wise to say these exact words to someone's brother. Harry realised if he was to proceed with this conversation with Ron, he would need to come at it indirectly. Ron looked to be enjoying his ale.

_Here goes nothing; time for a few questions._

"Did you know that Ginny was suspended for two matches for hexing an opposing Chaser?" Harry asked, as Ron took a long swallow.

"Yes, I read it in the _Prophet_ Friday morning," Ron answered, taking another long swig of his drink. "That git was damn lucky George and I weren't at that match."

Harry nodded, but he didn't wish to talk about Hobbs at the moment.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

Ron gave him an incredulous look.

"You're joking? Harry, to be fair, you weren't in the best state on Friday."

"True," Harry agreed.

As he thought about that Friday, Harry was instantly struck with another question.

"What exactly happened after you took me home?" Harry asked, his eyes widening in realisation. "Please don't tell me _you_ removed my trousers and put me to bed."

"No," Ron choked.

"Oh thank God."

"I walked you to your bedroom and dumped you on your bed _fully clothed_." Ron explained, wiping his mouth. "I used your fireplace to Floo the Burrow to ask if Mum could keep an eye on you for a few hours seeing as you had polished off a large dose of an expired pain potion."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled apologetically.

"But Mum was busy minding Victoire," Ron continued. "So I asked Ginny, and because of the suspension she was able to come."

Harry nodded.

"Did she seem like she wanted to come when you asked her?" Harry asked. "Or did she seem bothered?"

"Does it matter?" Ron smirked, his lips quivering with suppressed mirth.

"No," Harry lied.

Ron rummaged into his bag until he pulled out a quill and set it on the table in front of Harry.

"Well that answer just earned you some lines, Mr Potter."

"_What_?"

"Harry, what does it say on the back of your hand?" Ron chuckled, gesturing to Harry's right hand.

Harry glanced down at the faded scar_._

_Damn you, Ron Weasley!_

"So Harry, does it matter?"

_Answer the question, Potter. He'll just continue to take the mick out of you if you don't, _Harry thought.

"Yes,"

Sensing Harry's quiet tone, Ron stopped laughing, but a smile remained on his face.

"Ginny _was_ home, Harry. But I knew she'd _be_ home and more than willing to look after you," Ron explained. "Don't tell her I said this to you, because I _will_ deny it to save my arse from being hexed."

Harry's face started to relax into a smile and his frustration at Ron began to melt as he processed this new bit of information. The fact that this whole thing had been orchestrated by Ron left Harry completely dumbfounded.

"And I knew that you would rather have had Ginny look after you, than Mum or Hermione."

"How long have you known…"

"…that you fancy my sister?" Ron finished. "I've known for a while and I kept wondering what was taking you so long. But when Hermione found you Friday afternoon unconscious in your office muttering Ginny's name and saying something about 'Take me home,' I decided to just give you both a little…push."

"So you're okay if we…go out?" Harry hesitated, not really sure how to word his question.

"Trust me, it's not something I want to think about, but yes I'm okay with it. Just don't tell me what happens after you fight."

"Same here, I've been tell _you_ that for years," Harry laughed.

However, Harry's laughter quickly died as he remembered the catastrophe of events that had happened yesterday. All of Ron's matchmaking duties ruined over something Harry had done and said.

"Oh no," Harry said.

"What?" Ron asked.

"You remember Ginny's interview with _Quidditch Today_?" Harry recalled.

"Yes."

Harry relayed to Ron all that had happened on Sunday; Ginny blowing up at him, he angrily defending himself, and the final bit of words exchanged that ultimately led to her storming out of his flat.

"And you're going to apologise, right?" Ron insisted.

"But I didn't _do_ anything wrong."

"Really, Harry? Think about it. How were you able to get her interview rescheduled in the first place?" Ron asked.

"I made a few Floo calls and agreed to be interviewed," Harry answered flatly.

"And if you were in Ginny's shoes, wouldn't _you_ have wanted to earn that interview on your own, instead of having a famous friend pull a few favours?" Ron continued. "When has a Weasley ever wanted to live off your fame, Harry? Even _you_ don't like living off your fame."

Five years ago this barrage of logical reasoning would have appeared misplaced coming from Ron, but not after two years of living with Hermione. Ron had made many good points, the last of which couldn't have been an easy thing to say, but Ron was right. Harry would have wanted to have earned the interview outright rather than have had someone else get it for him. And as horrible as it sounded, Harry _had_ used his influence, to some degree to help boost Ginny's career. It was no wonder she was so angry with him. He considered it a miracle that she hadn't hexed him into next week.

"You're right. I have to apologise."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: As always special thanks to jennyelf for her tremendous encouragement and beta skills. This is the final chapter of Bedside Manner.

* * *

Chapter 5

_**Fail Safe Way of Charming your Witch #8: Resolving the Conflict**_

_In your quest to charm your witch, there will be times in your courtship when the two of you will disagree. This chapter will explore the art of 'resolving the conflict'._

_No couple is without their moments of discord, but there are ways to avoid the common pitfalls most wizards find themselves when in the midst of a conflict with their witch._

_The two most common precursors that lead into a disagreement between couples are lack of communication and poor listening skills. Please note that these two do not discriminate. Witches are just as guilty of executing such faults. However, if there is to be any resolution of conflict, these are the two basic fundamentals needed to charm your witch back from the silent treatment and you back from kipping on the sofa. _

_It is important that should you wish to progress successfully in your relationship with your witch that you show her not only that you care about her, but also that you care about what she has to say._

_Maintain eye contact when she is speaking to you. Eye contact is an intimate action and conveys to her that not only is she important, but that you are listening. Chances are she may or may not ask you what it is she just said, but be prepared to give an accurate answer. (This may seem like a trap and in many ways it is, but rest assured sometimes simply repeating the last sentence is enough to appease her.) Also be careful not to adopt a glazed over look on your face as this will only give her the illusion that you are bored and not remotely interested._

_**Fail- Safe tip #23: As tempting as it may be when listening to your witch pour her heart out to you, do not offer her advice. Do not make any attempts to fix the situation either, just offer a listening ear and wait for her to ask for your advice.**_

_A more simplistic manner to resolving the conflict can be done in these short steps:_

_1) Accept responsibility for the cause of the conflict by starting with an apology - "I'm sorry". (Even if it wasn't your fault, an apology from you is likely to get an apology back from her, but don't count on it.)_

_2) Compliment your witch with a simple statement - "You were right". (The probability of you being right is unlikely and really not important.)_

_3) Do not utter the words, "I was wrong" unless you are prepared to tell her exactly where you went wrong. If you cannot recall where you went wrong, she will either tell you (which is highly unlikely) or she will make you wait until you have figured it out resulting in a "delayed resolution"._

Harry blew out a breath and closed the book _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_ that Ron had given him a couple of years ago on his birthday. Upon receiving the book as a gift, Harry had put it aside, thinking Ron's offering of the self-help text to him as a joke, therefore never cracking it open.

In Harry's honest opinion, the chapter had some good points, but a large part of him doubted the advice was sound. But Ron swore by its helpful advice, which is why he suggested Harry read the chapter on "Resolving the Conflict".

Harry could understand where this book could have helped Ron resolve his many rows with Hermione, but he wasn't confident it would help him with Ginny. About the only helpful advice he had gleaned from the chapter was the apologizing part.

Looking at the clock in his office, Harry hurriedly put the book back in his bag and hastily gathered the files of unsolved cases needed for the weekly morning meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and the other Aurors. As he was ready to leave his office, a fox Patronus made its appearance, softly landing on his desk.

"Please do not be alarmed Mr Potter. My name is Healer Clarke and I am contacting you on behalf of an injured player, Ginny Weasley. Miss Weasley's condition is stable; however, your presence is urgently requested at Holyhead Stadium. Please meet me at the Players Entrance on the west side of the building. Authentification phrase: 'Your eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad'. Please reply at the earliest convenience."

Harry's heart hammered in his chest at the news of Ginny being seriously injured. He, of all people, knew the dangers that Quidditch could impose. He reckoned he had more Quidditch related injuries than most students had at Hogwarts. Still, it didn't make hearing the news about Ginny any easier.

He quickly replied to Healer Clarke's Patronus, sent a quick note to Kingsley and Ron, and hurriedly made his way to the lifts that led to the Disapparition zone in the Atrium. Once he got there, he turned on the spot with Holyhead Stadium in mind.

* * *

Harry Apparated outside a large faded green building with peeling yellow trimming along the windows and doors. The deserted structure looked like it had once been the local comprehensive. Years of decay and neglect gave off the air of abandonment and ironically the perfect place to hide a Quidditch Stadium. Various signs like 'DO NOT ENTER' and notices such as 'BUILDING CONDEMNED' were plastered along the grounds of the building, including the doors and some of the windows.

Harry quickly walked along to the west side of the stadium that faced away from the street and passersby. Standing just outside the Players entrance was a short older woman with greying mousy brown hair secured into a loose bun. She was dressed in dark green robes and appeared to be humming to herself.

Harry cleared his throat to get the Healer's attention. The Healer gave Harry a serene smile reminiscent of Luna Lovegood. The dreamy demeanor faded once she seemed to register exactly who Harry was and why he had come.

"Right, Harry Potter," said the Healer offering her hand to Harry to shake. "I'm Healer Clarke. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry greeted, taking the Healer's hand and shaking it.

"If you will please follow me, Mr Potter, I will take you to see Miss Weasley," said Healer Clarke, holding the door open for Harry.

Harry walked through the door and waited for the Healer to lead the way down the long faintly lit corridor.

"I walk fast, so keep up please."

She wasn't lying. Harry noticed for a short woman her strides were quick and determined. He was grateful as he wished to get to Ginny as quickly as possible.

"Is she okay?" Harry asked, no longer able to take the silence.

"Like I said in my message she is stable, but I'm afraid she will need to go home," Healer Clarke instructed.

"What happened?"

"Miss Weasley fainted," Healer Clarke answered matter-of-factly.

"Fainted," Harry panicked. Images of Ginny falling from her broom instantly entered his mind.

"Oh that sounded much worse that I meant it to," assured Healer Clarke. "She wasn't on her broom if that is what concerned you. The players were doing Bleacher runs and she collapsed at the last set. We thought it was dehydration as that is the most common culprit. After casting a few diagnostic spells on Miss Weasley, we discovered there were other factors involved; most notably a high fever, swollen sinuses, an infected throat and a migraine. The spell also found inflammation in her neck, shoulders and back, which leads me to believe she has-"

"- the flu," Harry finished.

"Precisely. I administered some potions for the pain…"

Harry didn't know what to think. Healer Clarke continued to speak to him, but he tuned her out. After all Ginny had done to take care of him while he was poorly, his way of repaying that kindness to her was to give her the flu. Now there where two things he needed to apologise for.

_Shit. Well done, Potter._

The stadium was a labyrinth of long corridors that forked off into other dark corridors. Harry wasn't really paying attention to where they were going, or how he was to find his way back. He was too preoccupied with what he was going to say to Ginny.

"…are you up to the task, Mr Potter?" Healer Clarke asked, a stern expression on her face reminding Harry of Professor McGonagall.

"Pardon?" Harry gulped.

It shocked him a bit that someone could remind him so well of his good friend Luna and the next minute of his strict Transfiguration professor.

"Due to the contagious nature of Miss Weasley's illness, she will need to go home and be cared for. That is why I messaged you here. Are you up to the task?"

"Yes."

"You look puzzled, Mr Potter."

"I guess I just don't understand why _I_ was called and not her brothers or her parents."

Healer Clarke stopped walking and turned to look at Harry. She seemed to have a strange knowing smile on her face.

"It is not uncommon for a Quidditch player at this professional level to list a non-family member as their emergency contact," explained Healer Clarke. "This person is likely to be a very good friend who understands the dangers and demands of the game as well as the player at an intimate level. Family members, especially parents, tend to fuss."

As they continued to walk down the corridor, the Healer's explanation penetrated Harry's mind. He felt a strange sort of comfort that marginally overshadowed the panic that had gripped him at learning of his involvement in Ginny's current condition.

They passed a door that read 'Harpies' Changing Room', and turned a corner until they reached a door that read 'Harpies' Training Room'.

"Ah, here we are," Healer Clarke said, pushing the door open for Harry.

The door led into a small clinic area about a quarter of the size of Hogwarts Hospital wing. The room had white walls with the only colours being single vertical stripes of dark green and yellow along the middle of the room.

Healer Clarke directed Harry to the far end of the clinic to a cot where Ginny lay sleeping. She was tucked in pretty securely under the thin blanket. Vials of various potions and a pitcher of water and a glass sat on the bedside table.

Ginny's red hair stood out in sharp contrast to the white bedclothes.

In Harry's honest opinion, Ginny looked awful. Her cheeks were flushed, a light sheen of sweat covered her brow and she appeared to be shivering. Despite all of that, an overwhelming need to look after her consumed him. He wanted to climb into the small cot with her and hold her until she stopped shivering. He settled for sitting in the chair next to her cot.

"Oh Ginny, I'm sorry," Harry whispered, fingering her flushed cheek.

Ginny began to stir. She turned her head toward Harry and slowly opened her eyes. Watching her look around the room, Harry could see the comprehension slowly dawn on her face. Her brow furrowed as she looked at the vials of potions on the bedside table. The expression didn't change once her eyes rested on Harry, but he was sure her cheeks flushed even more.

"Harry, what-what are you doing here?" Ginny asked quietly, rubbing her eyes. "What happened?"

"Healer Clarke called me because you fainted during Bleacher runs."

"Uh," Ginny moaned and turned away from Harry, hiding her face in her hands.

Harry was unsure if he should continue, but he thought it best to get the truth out there.

"She also said that you have the flu, which is likely what caused the fever that made you faint," Harry sighed. "Ginny I'm so sorry."

Ginny turned to look at him, tears glistening in her eyes. She freed her hand from inside the blanket and took his hand.

_Maintain eye contact…_

"It's not your fault I fainted, Harry or that I have the flu." Ginny sniffed.

_Accept responsibility for the cause of the conflict by starting with an apology._

"Well technically it is, Ginny, and I'm sorry…about everything. I'm sorry I gave you the flu. I'm sorry I interfered with your interview, and used my…" Harry swallowed thickly. "…name to advance your career."

Ginny kept her eyes on him. A small watery smile graced her lips.

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have blown up at you like I did, or yelled at you," Ginny apologised. "You just have to stop saving people, Harry."

Harry smiled at her and brushed her fringe away from her brow.

"Oh no, Harry I took you away from work. You're probably missing out on an important meeting or…"

"Shh, Ginny relax," Harry assured. "Don't you think I'd rather take care of someone that I _love_ than sit through a boring meeting at work?"

Ginny smiled at the familiar statement.

Harry looked deep into her bright brown eyes and down to her lips and softly kissed her. The dormant monster in his chest roared in triumph.

They broke the kiss and Harry uttered to her the simple words he had wanted to say to her for awhile.

"I love you, Ginny."

"I love you too, Harry."

Healer Clarke cleared her throat.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Mr Potter, but Miss Weasley is free to go. I am releasing her under your care, so if you could please sigh this waiver," Healer Clarke said, handing Harry a sheet of parchment and a quill. "I also have the potions that she will need to take every six hours in here." She indicated a small box in her other hand setting it on the bedside table.

Harry signed the waiver, returned it and the quill back to Healer Clarke and stuffed the box in his robes' top pocket.

"Healer Clarke, can we just Disapparate from here? I'd like to get her home as quickly as possible," Harry asked.

"Yes, of course. Goodbye Mr Potter, it was a pleasure meeting you. Miss Weasley, get plenty of rest and remember to take the potions on time. "

"Are you ready to go home?" Harry asked, slowly untucking the blankets and helping Ginny into a sitting position. "You are, after all, under my care, so I should probably take you to my flat; if that's okay with you?"

"Yes, that's okay with me, Harry," Ginny answered, removing the blanket and sliding her legs to the side of the bed facing Harry.

She began to shiver again, so Harry wrapped her back in the blanket. Harry draped her right arm around his shoulders and slid one of his arms around her lower back and the other under her legs, cradling her to him. She snuggled into his embrace, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"Harry, I can walk," Ginny said, though she made no attempt to leave his arms.

"I know, Ginny. Hang on to me tightly okay?"

"Are you kidding, Potter? I'm never letting you go." Ginny kissed his cheek and wrapped both her arms around his neck. "I'm ready when you are."

"I've been ready since my sixth year at Hogwarts," Harry answered, kissing her forehead.

"Me too," Ginny giggled.

Harry held Ginny securely in his arms and turned on the spot.

* * *

A/N: I would also like to thank all those who put this fic down as their favorite story, and story alert. I was so pleased that you all liked this fic. It was my first attempt at a multi-chaptered fic and I'm glad that I was able to meet the challenge. I would also like to thank Nymphadora, your thought out reviews were extremely encouraging and insightful. Your kind words were such a blessing during this writing process. I hope you all enjoyed reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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